Cuz Daddeh Knows Best
by Meus Obsequium
Summary: If one Blood Elf is good, shouldn't two be even better? It is in Tar'kah's reasoning. BDSM warning, Sub/Dom relationships. Male&Male.
1. Chapter 1

Tar'kah rolled his shoulders, luxuriating in the warm caresses of his bathwater. His head lolled back. For a moment he just existed: no need to fight or flee, simply a clear mind and a relaxed body. Frothy bubbles clung to his tusks and coated his unruly blue mane with snowy iridescence. He loved coming to the inns in Silvermoon. The elves understood the meaning of personal hygiene and luxurious bubble baths. He thought wryly of what his fellow trolls would say if they could see him wallowing in a tub of scented soaps, but decided he did not care. He looked forward to when Lyinar would arrive to share his bath with him.

His long ears twitched, vaguely sensing the snick of a lock being picked. Tar'kah thought he had given Lyinar a key to enter the room. A dull twinge of unease prodded his subconscious. _I shud get up. Nah, I shudn't._ He waited for a moment, but did not hear the dull clump of Lyinar's boots. One red eye snapped open. _I shud get up._

The rogue's face would have been comical, Tar'kah observed, if the blasted man hadn't been holding his coin bag in one hand and his favorite axe in the other. Plump, succulent lips were parted with shock. Even the rogue's ears tilted back and down in distress. Tar'kah stared at the young blood elf with one eye, his body frozen in a state of disbelief that this young one would have the audacity to rob him. The rogue seemed to have suffered a similar fate; only his glowing eyes moved, flickering from the troll to the bag of money then back to the troll. Finally his eyes settled on Tar'kah's axe and his gaping mouth snapped shut.

"I'll stab you," he waved the axe in the air, donning a fierce mien. Tar'kah struggled not to burst into derisive laughter as the unknowing elf nearly sliced off his own ear. The troll decided he was clearly in no danger despite being unarmed. He was more worried about what harm the poor rouge would do to himself.

"Yah don't stab wit an axe," he informed the moronically cute creature. "Yah hack wit an axe."

The elf's brows pinched together and he brandished the axe at the troll again. "Then I'll hack you. Don't come near me."

As the initial state of shock wore off, Tar'kah began to wonder why the rogue didn't run with his prize, since the troll was obviously naked and highly unlikely to pursue. The roundness in the elf's pink cheeks and his soft, unmarred skin betrayed his youth. A lack of scars in a rogue could only mean a few things: skill, luck, or inexperience. Tar'kah crossed the first two from the list. The blood elf's shiny black hair spiked all over his head, so different from the long, flowing manes he had seen on many blood elves. The troll tilted his head, a small smirk playing across his lips. Tar'kah could see the perplexed elf pause as he considered his would-have-been prey. Losing his nerve, he stepped towards the door.

The elf's knees buckled. With a sharp gasp he collapsed to the floor, the axe clattering next to him, forgotten. Icy tendrils wound up his body, rooting him in place. Tar'kah's grin broadened as the little elf gazed up at him with accusing eyes and chattering teeth. "Let-let me go!"

"Nah can do, mon," Tar'kah winked at him. "Nah me doin' it, after all. Speakin' of, it's 'bout time yah got here, Nahri. Mah bath is gettin' cold."

"Perhaps another body can warm it up for you," a distinctly elven voice purred from the door. Hopeful green eyes peered up at the newcomer. If the young rogue had expected help from his elven brother, his hopes were soon dashed as the hunter whacked him across the temple with the broad side of his bow. With a low groan, the rogue surrendered to the blissful dark of unconsciousness. Lyinar raised one elegant brow. "Shall I remove him from our room, or were you enjoying your-" he gestured to the disappearing suds that revealed Tar'kah's lean, naked body- "exhibitionism?"

Tar'kah laughed at the disdain on his pretty elf's face. "Dahlin', if yah tink dis is 'ex'bitchonism', jus' wait til he wakes up. Tie him up for naw. I tink he be fun when he wakes up. He's kinda cute."

Lyinar did as he was told, but the tightness of his lips and the stiffness of his motions broadcasted his displeasure. He touched the other elf as little as possible while he lashed him to the bed. Tar'kah observed with a hint of amusement and a strong dose of affection. His precious elf had always carried a jealous streak. He would need to be reassured of his place. He would also need to be reminded of his place. When Lyinar finished, the troll motioned him over to the bathtub.

"Strip," he commanded gently. Bowing his head, Lyinar responded immediately, shrugging off his leather armor with aqualine grace. Tar'kah surveyed his familiar body: the lines on his upper arms where his golden tan ended and turned pale, the shimmering blonde hair that tumbled over his shoulders, and the fine, downy fur that trailed down from his dimpled belly button. There had never been an elf as lovely as his elf. Tar'kah sighed, nuzzling Lyinar's stomach with his hooked nose. "Dere's mah good baby. So beautiful."

Lyinar preened under his attention, but Tar'kah caught the quick glance his lover shot the rogue as he settled into the tub between Tar'kah's lefs. The troll chuckled, pulling Lyinar's back to his chest. The elf gasped softly as he felt Tar'kah's erection pressed against his backside. He tilted his chin so that he was gazing up at his dominant lover. Tar'kah cupped his face in a large hand, lowering his head until his lips barely brushed against the other's. "Yah gonna play nicely wit the little rogue, Nahri. Nah-ah," he scolded when Lyinar tried to wiggle out of his grasp with a disgusted snort. "Ya gonna teach him how to perfect his rogue-ly arts-"

"I'm a hunter, not a rogue."

"-and how nah to get 'imself killed-"

"I don't care if he does."

Tar'kah pinched him hard on the inside of his thigh, causing him to yelp. "-and yah gonna stop in'trupting when I givin' yah orders. Wha on eart' has gotten inta yah?"

If Tar'kah hadn't been holding his lover so closely and safely against him, he would have backed away from the venom in Lyinar's eyes. "I don't want you fucking some other elf, Tar'kah!"

"Hmm," Tar'kah rubbed the calloused pad of his thumb across Lyinar's cheek. "Dere is dat problem. But," he leaned in closer and breathed into Lyinar's lips, "dat's why yah gonna do the hon'ahs fo' me."

Tar'kah crashed his lips against his wide-eyed lover's, taking advantage of Lyinar's shock to run his tongue over the elf's pearly teeth. Soon, Lyinar was kissing him back just as fervently, his arms wrapped around the back of Tar'kah's neck and his hands buried in the stiff blue hair. When they parted, flushed and panting, Lyinar's eyes once more traced over the figure of the rogue tied to their bed, but along with jealousy there was a touch of desire and possessiveness in his gaze. Tar'kah threaded his fingers through Lyinar's honeyed locks, pleased with himself.

Daddy always knew just what his baby needed.


	2. Chapter 2

_*A/N: I am slowly figuring out exactly how to use the uploader , including when in my editing to add the author's note. Please bear with my noobness. Welcome to my first story! Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it. Feel free to leave a comment with your thoughts, as these brighten my day. Constructive criticism is welcome. Thanks and enjoy!*_

Korel moaned, low in his throat, his entire chest vibrating with the sound. His arms tingled from lack of blood flow; he tried to pull them down from over his head, only to encounter a resistance. He yanked repetitively, but to no avail. The motion made his biceps seize up with needling pain. Finally, he gave up, recognizing the harsh rasp of rope on his wrists.

"Ow," he complained loudly to whatever ungodly being would listen. "Lemme go."

It suddenly occurred to him that perhaps he should open his eyes and observe his surroundings before drawing attention to himself. He blinked blearily. Blazing firelight assaulted his vision, turning the two figures in the room into hazy silhouettes. His ears registered two distinct voices: one growly and hoarse with a heavy accent, and the other low, drawling, and slightly musical. He sucked in his breath, recognizing the first.

"Let me go," he renewed his battle against the ropes on his wrists, twisting his body away from the troll that had captured him. His mind slowly reconstructed the memory of his botched thievery. He had walked in on the troll in the middle of his bath, tried to lift his coin-purse, been caught in the act, and finally battered into unconsciousness by his fellow elf. "By the Eternal Sun, let me go!"

A warm hand caught him by the chin and jerked his face upwards. Tendrils of silky hair danced over his face. He sneered at the blonde elf, wrinkling his upturned nose. The other elf regarded him with both curiosity and disdain. He snapped his teeth at the hand holding his chin and was rewarded with a sharp slap on the cheek.

The world spun upside-down as Korel reeled from the hit. As soft as the hit had been, it still rocked him after so recently awakening. His fragile consciousness wavered. Tears pricked at his eyes. He could feel the tender spot on his temple where the elf had hit him earlier throbbing. A sense of desperation clouded his senses.

"Please let me go," he whimpered. "I won't bother you again."

He turned his face away from the awful glare of the hunter, sniffling quietly. If he survived this encounter, he would renounce his ways as a rogue and become a priest, devoting his life to the healing arts rather than the thieving arts. His heart fell as he realized that if they had intended to let him go, they would not have tied him up. He was going to die in this room, tied to their bed, probably after they had their fun with him. He shuddered at the thought, curling up as much as his prone position would allow.

"Did you know," the elf's lilting voice interrupted his cruel imaginings, "that it is a custom among some peoples to slice off the hands of petty thieves?"

Korel tried not to let his horror show. He carefully schooled his face into a mask of calm, though he knew his sparkling eyes still shone with fear. The hunter gently caressed his wrists with a long, slender finger. Korel flinched away from the touch.

"It would be such a shame to lose such soft, pretty hands," the hunter mused. Korel realized that the blonde elf was nearly straddling him as he whispered these awful, threatening things in his ears. Their long legs had tangled on the bed, reminiscent of other activities. Under different circumstances, the young elf would have been aroused, but fear for his extremities blocked any semblance of attraction from forming. "Don't you agree, little rogue?"

"Please…"

"Please what?" He could hear the smile in the other's voice.

"Please don't kill me! Or chop off my hands! I'll do anything! Please!" the words rushed from Korel's lips. He was mindless of his pride or of the consequences of his declaration, focused only on surviving this predicament. He hardly noticed the glittering tears that fell from his eyes. His chest ached as he gasped for air; the elf hovering above him shushed him, wiping the wetness from his cheeks. Korel glared at the elf, confused by his sudden kindness.

"If you surrender yourself to me, no one will harm you." With the firelight behind him, the hunter appeared to be a glowing angel, his aurelian hair forming a fiery halo around his head.

Korel's lips trembled. He could see the honesty reflecting in the hunter's eyes, but he could also see a predatory gleam. "What will you do to me?"

"Teach you how to properly sneak, for one," the other responded drily, "so we will not be in this sort of situation again."

The troll snorted. Korel whipped his head around, having forgotten his presence. His long, lanky form was draped over a rickety chair, his eyes riveted on the scene in front of him. The rogue noticed the bulge in the troll's tight leather pants. Korel blushed at his unabashed appreciation and by the close proximity of the other elf, turning his head to his shoulder so he could wipe away the remainder of his tears.

"I could use the training, but I'm unsure what your real intentions are," he admitted. _Anything as long as I don't die._

"Your answer?"

Korel paused, considering the implications of his surrender. The irony was not lost on him; the one time he stepped back to consider his choice before he made it, he truly had no choice. Anger at his past immaturity and rashness bubbled in his chest. Perhaps, if he had not been so foolish, he would not be here.

"Just don't kill me."

A rather sweet smile spread across the hunter's face, taking Korel aback. "Of course not, pet."

An odd scent lingered underneath Korel's nose; his brain grew fuzzy, and his eyes slowly slid shut. He knew he had been drugged, but could not find it in himself to care as he submitted to unconsciousness yet again.

….*******….

"Puttin' him undah already? We jus' started havin' fun," Tar'kah complained as the rogue swooned under the effect of the drug. Lyinar popped the stopper back into place and threw the bottle at the troll. He caught it without sparing it a glance.

"He is distressed," Lyinar intoned softly, untying the ropes and rubbing the rogue's arms to restimulate the blood flow. "He will be much happier when he awakens the next time unbound and unthreatened."

Tar'kah watched his elf take care of the rogue with a pleased smile, although slightly rankled that he had not witnessed a little bit of play between the two. Lyinar needed something to cuddle and nurture in order to be content, which was one of the reasons he had become a hunter. While Tar'kah knew that Lyinar would struggle with the idea of the rogue entering their relationship, he also knew that Lyinar would not cause the rogue any harm. At worst, the mighty hunter would bitch about it, and Tar'kah would be forced to spank him. _How ah'ful._

Lyinar tossed one of his springpaw skins over the sleeping rogue. Apparently satified, he turned to Tar'kah with his hands on his hips. "Am I playing nicely enough?"

"Dat yah are. Yah gonna play wit' me dat nicely?"

"In case you haven't noticed, we have someone occupying the bed."

Tar'kah tugged the lithe elf onto his lap, nuzzling his neck. "An' dat, swee'art, is wha' dey made da floor fo'."


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Apologies for the long delay between postings! I had to quit playing WoW, college kicked my tail this last year, and I became engaged, so life has been busy. I have been sitting on this chapter for the past half-year… and here it is (finally)!_

_By the way, I do not own anything related to World of Warcraft or Blizzard (other than an inactive account). I simply like to play in their playground. I also do not condone the kidnapping and blackmailing of potential sex slaves. In real life, Tar'kah would be in jail._

Tar'kah shuffled through the junk in their bags, taking inventory of their food and ammunition supplies. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth each time he counted a new item. The sound helped him to concentrate on his task. He was pleased to note that all of his stuff remained in its proper positions; there had not been any more rogue invasions since the first.

When he first came to Silvermoon, Tar'kah had found the blood elves' squeaky snores positively adorable, but having two squeaking elves in the room was proving too much for his patience to handle. He sighed, casting them both a withering glare. _At least dey squeakin' is bettah dan dey squawkin'._

He buried his overlarge nose into a new sack. This particular bag housed all of their spare armor and leathers. He clattered through the collection, pausing occasionally to assess an item for the rogue, and did not notice when the squeaking quieted.

"GAH! GETOFFAM-" _Thud._

"KYAAAH!"

Tar'kah jerked his head out of the bag to see Lyinar flailing in the sheets and the rogue missing. He stumbled to his feet, alarm bells ringing in his head. He was about positive that the little rogue could not stealth properly, but he had no desire to be knifed in the back. He knew from experience that a knife in the back would seriously dampen his morning mood.

His nerves settled when a patch of spiky black hair peeked over the other side of the bed, followed by a red, sputtering face. The rogue hung on the edge of the bed, his venomous glower trained on Lyinar, who was still recovering from his rude awakening. Evidently the rogue was not satisfied by waking up without his arms bound, and he was definitely not as happy as Lyinar predicted.

"You PERVERT!" The rogue seethed. "How dare you!"

A blank look crossed Lyinar's puffy-eyed, messy-haired face. He ogled at the rogue and Tar'kah was shocked that the young brunette did not spout steam from his ears. His lips drew back and his little nose crinkled in a vicious growl.

"You GRABBED my ASS!"

Tar'kah stifled a chuckle, turning the sound into a garbled rumble. Lyinar almost looked ashamed, but the troll could see the hints of a smile dancing over his lips. He would need to work with the hunter on the idea of "dominance" or this rambunctious young one would walk all over him.

"Well, lil' one, tech'nickly speakin', it's _his_ ass as of last night. He can grab it all he wants."

The rogue opened his mouth to argue, but the color and the fight slowly drained from his face. His shoulders trembled. Tar'kah felt a pang of guilt as he was reminded of the elf's youth. Perhaps he should not have reminded him so quickly of his surrender, but the boy needed to understand his situation.

"However," Lyinar said delicately, "I do believe it is safe for now. I apologize for touching you without your permission."

Tar'kah wanted to bang his head on the wall. He would need to have this discussion with his hunter on "dominance" very soon. Perhaps so much time spent as a submissive had permanently altered his brain functions to submissive mode.

"An'ways, now dat yah both done squeakin' an' squawkin', we can get to biz'ness. Rogue, whatcha name?"

The young one averted his eyes. "Korel."

"Yah know how ta stealth, Kor'ee?"

"I can stealth fine, thank you." Color returned to Korel's face in the form of a splotchy red flush creeping up his neck. His sweet pout made Tar'kah want to ravage those lips with his own or shove his cock between them until they were even more swollen and red. He controlled his primal urges, firmly reminding himself that the little rogue was _Lyinar's_ playtoy.

"Hmm. Then how come you didn't stealth when you robbed Tar'kah? Or attempted to rob him, excuse me."

"I just… it's none of your business!"

Tar'kah winked at Lyinar. "I tink da elfie saw mah fine bodeh and wanted some a'dat."

"HELL NO! Fine… I can't stealth worth a damn and I was going to take your gold to the trainer so I could learn some new skills."

Tar'kah gawked at the snarling little elf. "But ain't stealthin' one o' da firs' tings yah rogues learn?"

Korel flopped down on the bed, as far away from Lyinar as he could manage without falling off. "I'm a new trainee. I just turned old enough to train."

Alarm coursed through Tar'kah's body again –he had been fantasizing about a mere child!- but then he remembered that elves aged differently than his own kind. Although Korel was just coming of the age to declare his path in life, he had certainly been sexually mature for some time. But since the elves aged differently, perhaps their sexual maturity came later and Korel really WAS a child in their eyes. Tar'kah bit the inside of his cheek, a familiar ache building in his brain. Warriors weren't made for this sort of reasoning.

"Taking yesterday's events into consideration, have you considered a class other than the rogue?" The smaller elf glared at Lyinar, who held his hands up in surrender. "It's always good to survey your options. And your talents… or lack thereof."

Tar'kah cut into the conversation, determined to avoid the oncoming hissy fit. As cute as Korel was in a temper, he really didn't want the elves to hate each other… even if it would make for an interesting show. And as cuddly as Lyinar could be, he liked to snark. It would take Korel some time to get used to.

"Where do yah need ta go for yah rogue-ly trainin'?"

Two pairs of startled green eyes studied him for traces of a joke. Tar'kah was quite serious; it would be useful to have a rogue to travel with them, even if it would make life difficult for awhile. If the boy was bound to them, Tar'kah wanted to take full advantage of his service. The offer hadn't just been a ploy to convince the boy to surrender his body to them, or so Tar'kah tried to convince himself.

"I told yah, Nah'ri, we was gonna train da rogue. I wasn' lyin'." Lyinar shrugged. Tar'kah knew the elf didn't put confidence in the abilities of their new companion. He wasn't sure he did either. "An' Kor'ee, yah betta make dis worth our time and mah gold. I'm hopin' yah be betta den I tink yah are. But if nawt," he smiled predatorily, "At leas' we got some otha' uses for yah."


	4. Chapter 4

Sweat trickled between Korel's shoulder blades. His skin chafed underneath the loose leather of his armor, causing him to waddle rather than walk. After several hours of killing springpaw lynxes, he felt he deserved a rest. His kidnapper, the lumbering troll with the ego problem, obviously did not share his feelings. He could feel the troll's burgundy eyes marking his progress; their intensity was unsettling.

When the troll and the hunter had allowed Korel out of their room, his first impulse had been to bolt. But a low, sultry warning from the hunter dissuaded him: if he ran, the elf would be able to track him, and all hope for training would vanish. However, if Korel had known that his training would entail hours of sun and sweat and blood, he probably would have ran anyways.

Even now his stubborn, willful side begged for release. He wanted to run. But his late-blooming logical side convinced him to stay for several reasons. Firstly, he had filed his captors' threat in the back of his mind and he did _not_ want to give them reason to hurt him. Secondly, he somewhat enjoyed the training they offered, at least for the first few hours. Lastly, he was a rogue. He had seen the amount of gold that Tar'kah carted around; he had even held it in his grubby hands for a few seconds. He was not above using someone as his sugardaddy if it could give him the upper hand. While he may not be powerful enough to escape them now, one day he would be.

_And I'll be using their gold to get_ _me there,_ he stabbed savagely at an attacking springpaw. The giant cat yowled as his blade sliced through its ribs and into its heart, spurting crimson blood across the ground and over his hands. Korel grimaced as he shook the sticky heat from his skin.

"That should be enough skins for today," Korel's heartbeat increased as Lyinar's soft voice wrapped around him from behind. He stepped away from his kill, eager to keep as much distance as possible between him and his fellow elf. He ignored the sharp glance that Lyinar threw at him. "I should be able to make you some higher quality armor now. Armor that actually fits."

"Is that why I've been out here so long? Harvesting skins for you?" Korel didn't bother keeping the bitterness from his voice. Just because he had convinced himself to work with them didn't mean that he had to enjoy it, or allow them to enjoy it. _Maybe if I annoy them enough they will let me go._

Lyinar carefully pulled the lynx's skin away from its carcass, sliding his knife expertly between the skin and the muscle. "No, you have been harvesting skins for yourself. You need armor and you need practice. I receive no benefit from this exchange."

Korel pouted behind the other elf's back. New armor would be nice. The insides of his thighs were rubbed raw due to his baggy clothing; Lyinar and the troll had nothing in his size to offer him. The thought of spending another day in his current armor made him shudder. He watched as the hunter pulled the skin completely away from the lynx. His stomach churned slightly at the sight of so much raw flesh. He turned away.

And bumped right into the burly troll's bare chest.

Korel jumped back so quickly that he tripped over the springpaw carcass, flopping right on his ass in the middle of the squishy pile of guts. He choked back a cry as he felt his hands sink into the thing's intestines. Bones crunched underneath his weight. He shuddered at the sound. His pink cheeks faded to white, then tinged green. Korel vaguely registered Lyinar's blonde brows lifting in disbelief and horror before he hurled.

"I tink we pushed da rogue a lil' too hard ta'day."

Korel's muscled spasmed one last time as his stomach emptied its contents in the hunter's lap. The young rogue felt woozy, as though all the day's training had caught up with him in one moment. He wiped the spittle from his lips with the back of his hand.

Lyinar breathed heavily through his nose, his eyes scrunched closed and his jaw clenched. "Do you feel better now?" he gritted out.

"Yeah," Korel answered weakly.

The troll hefted him out of the lynx remains. His large hand wrapped entirely around Korel's forearm. The rogue recoiled from his touch –it was the troll's fault that he had tripped anyways- but the troll promptly dumped him onto the ground again, his overlarge nose wrinkled in disgust. Lyinar was still frozen in place, half-digested bread chunks and stomach acid dripping down his immaculate armor. Korel shrank against the ground in mortification.

"We need ta get yah washed up naw, Nah'ri," the troll laid a surprisingly gentle hand on the hunter's shoulder. "Dere's a pawnd ovah dere. Kor'ee, too. C'mon."

His mind dulled by shame and disgust, Korel pushed himself from the ground and followed the troll as he half led, half dragged Lyinar to the banks of a small pond. He licked his dry lips, watching as the troll fumbled with the buckle of Lyinar's belt. When the troll had whipped off the elf's belt, the hunter seemed to come to himself again. He pulled at his clothes with gusto, ripping them from his body as though burned by their contact with his skin.

Korel gasped in alarm as Lyinar's torso was revealed, ducking his head to avoid the sight of his flawless, golden chest. Heat stirred in his stomach, and he nearly retched again as he felt his body reacting to the sight of the other elf. He could hear Lyinar struggling with his armor, the buckles clanking as he threw his pants aside. Then he heard a splash.

He peeked over his shoulder and stifled a squeak. Lyinar was in the pond. _Naked_. He struggled to keep his body's reaction under control. Fortunately he was relieved from the sight when the troll stepped in front of him.

"Naw it's yah turn, Kor'ee."

….*******….

Tar'kah was not ashamed to admit that he got a sick sense of amusement from the whole situation. He had no idea that dragging the rogue to Sunstrider Isle for training would result in having both his elves bathing together. He was not one to let a good opportunity pass him by, though.

It was especially cute how the tired little rogue kept fighting off his administrations. When Tar'kah began to undress him, Korel has sputtered and pushed him away. But a day of physical training had worn his fighting spirit down, and soon he had resigned himself to being stripped. Tar'kah had tried not to let his hands linger for too long on the elf's slender hips, but it was difficult to keep from stroking the rogue's faintly blushed skin. He was so much softer than Lyinar; he still had a bit of baby fat around his middle and his stomach was smooth, almost feminine. Soon that would be gone, so he took the time to admire the youthful innocence while it lasted.

Yes, Tar'kah really was quite opportunistic.

Korel had scurried into the water once he was nude, giving Lyinar a wide berth. Tar'kah frowned as he watched them bathe in separate areas of the pond. The younger elf blushed pitifully every time someone approached; he seemed determined to make himself as small as possible, hunching his shoulders and wrapping his arms around his chest. If he was that opposed to people seeing him, perhaps it was good he was becoming a rogue.

Though Korel was the first to finish bathing, Lyinar was the first to return to the shore. His body was molten gold, glistening with tiny water droplets like diamonds. He twisted his hair, wringing out the water, and settled down beside Tar'kah, still unclothed. He reclined on the soft grass with his arms behind his head.

"Your little one refuses to look at me. It's almost comical."

"Yahr lil' one, Nah'ri. I tink yah just not used to some'un not gawkin' at yah bodeh," Tar'kah winked. "Bet dat wounds ya pride."

"Of course not."

"Mmm-hmm."

"It's his own loss."

"O'course."

"I would have forgiven his transgression if he had at least offered to wash it off of me." Tar'kah couldn't resist running his hand through Lyinar's wet locks. The elf butted his head into the touch.

"Is dat what dis about?"

"'This' is about nothing. There is no 'this'."

Korel's eyes wandered the shore. He immediately looked away when he saw his fellow elf so brazenly revealed. Tar'kah rumbled a laugh. A tell-tale flush crept up Korel's neck and he hunkered further in the water. _Dat's right. Cold watah always takes care of da problem. _Tar'kah began to wonder if the elf would ever get out of the pond or if he would have to drag him out.

"Perhaps he is just embarrassed. As he should be. He vomited on my best armor," Lyniar sniffed. "I'm never wearing it again."

"Nah'ri, quit bitchin' before I turn yah ovah my knee and give dem younglins' a show." Tar'kah did not mention that Lyinar was already giving them quite a nice show.

"At least _they_ would be appreciative."

Lyinar was indeed amassing a sizable amount of onlookers. Tar'kah had forgotten just how many young ones started training here. Of course, only a third of them would survive to go anywhere, so he didn't mind allowing them this small thrill. Korel was also drawing his own share of admiring stares, which seemed to be causing him immense discomfort.

"Ah well. Let's go rescue our elfie. I s'pose if yah gonna make him new armor, I can buy ya some nice pelts to make yah own with. Wud ya like dat?"

"No. I liked my old armor."

"Den we can have it cleaned."

"Disgusting."

"Den go naked. Yah seem to have no problem wit' it. But when sum creature rips yah dick off, remem'bah I told yah so." Tar'kah heaved himself from the ground, ignoring the narrowed green eyes focused on his critical points.

Honestly, when did being Daddy turn into being a babysitter?


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: So I'm getting married tomorrow… but today I am so bored that I decided to finish up this chapter and get it up before the honeymoon! It's a little shorter than the others, but it contains some promise of what is to come! Thanks for sticking with the story!_

Korel rolled onto his side, curling his pillow against his body. Sleep was a luxury he was not frequently allowed. Over the last four days he had been driven to the point of exhaustion every day until it was everything he could do to activate his hearthstone. He was grateful that Tar'kah only stayed in the best inns at Silvermoon. No matter how tired he became, he was guaranteed an excellent night of sleep in a comfortable bed.

_A comfortable bed devoid of unwelcome visitors too_, he admitted. It made him a little wary that they had not tried to touch him yet. The hunter had shown no interest in him since their eventful first day together. As much as he hated to admit it, it worried him. Of course, he didn't want the elf to touch him or bother him, so perhaps it was a blessing that he disgusted Lyinar so much.

Now he was fully awake, pulled into consciousness by the conundrum that kept him awake at night. Had they been teasing him when they promised to make use of his body? Perhaps they had only intended to train him as a rogue; or perhaps he had impressed them enough that they decided to make him a part of their team without the added "benefits." Maybe they were waiting until he grew more comfortable with him.

Or maybe they had lost interest after seeing him at the pond.

Korel punched his pillow into shape. What did it matter if some black-mailing bastard decided that he wasn't molesting material? He should be happy.

At least it was quiet tonight; there were no heated gasps or needy moans coming from the next room over. He could barely go to sleep on those nights. It was all he could do not to scream in frustration when he heard their nightly pleasure. It was disgusting to listen to.

He was grateful they had allowed him his own room. He didn't have to watch them. Any night he chose, he could escape. Moonlight trickled into his room, dying the sheer curtains a silvery blue. There were several hours left before dawn. He could run. He could return to the open woodlands of his youth. He could have his freedom.

He could return to being a lowborn boy with no future, couldn't he?

Tomorrow he would learn how to stealth. Tar'kah had already arranged a lesson for him with the rogue trainer. After he learned how to stealth, it would be easy to escape.

_Tomorrow_, he promised himself. _I'll run tomorrow_.

Then he closed his eyes and surrendered to blissful sleep. At least for tonight, he had a full stomach, a comfortable bed, and the promise of greatness in his future.

* * *

Tar'kah slowly traced his fingernails down the inside of Lyinar's thigh. The muscles in the elf's legs trembled; his chest rose and fell in an off-beat tempo of shuddering gasps and sighs. He was perfectly sprawled across the bed, his arms and legs bound to the four corners and a gag in his mouth.

"Yah too loud, Nah'ri," Tar'kah murmured. "So I gonna teach ya da pleasures o' silence."

With a saucy wink he cupped the elf balls in a large hand, gently rolling them in his palm. The gag muffled Lyinar's throaty moan. "Aftah all, we gotta let da otha' elfie sleep. But you won't be gettin' much." He kissed Lyinar on the cheek. "I promise."

Lyinar closed his eyes, his lashes fluttering with pleasure as Tar'kah moved his hand up the elf's shaft. The hunter wriggled against his bonds, thrusting his hips up into Tar'kah's caresses. Tar'kah knew what the elf wanted. But tonight there would be no playful romp that scooted the bed across the floor. There would be no roared orgasms, no loud smack of flesh on flesh. Tonight Lyinar would not get what he wanted, but what he needed: soft touches, gentle kisses, and his lover's fervent attentions.

Tomorrow things would change.

_Tomorrow_, Tar'kah thought with a thrill of excitement. _We'll play rough tomorrow… all three of us._


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: OMGOODNESS I am so embarrassed at how long it had taken me to update. I almost didn't release this chapter because it has been so long. Regardless, I hope you enjoy it, and will not encumber you with endless excuses as to why it has taken so long. _

_And to everyone who reviews, favorites, or follows, thank you. You are the ones who have spurred me to continue this. Hopefully you will enjoy this addition!_

A sheen of sweat covered Korel's palms, making it difficult for him to keep a firm grip on his dagger. Green eyes slowly traced the length of his arms; he studied every detail, every hair and freckle. He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them, there was only a faint shadow that soon vanished.

His breath escaped in a soft whoosh. No matter how many times he did it, stealthing amazed him. He could feel the solidity of his body, yet his stomach twisted with the sensation that he was weightless. He wondered what it would feel like to run in this form. Would the wind rush right through him?

After the training session, Tar'kah had not allowed him to experiment with stealthing outside of the room. The troll had rumbled something about practicing first. Practice. Korel was really getting sick of that word, especially the way that Lyinar would enunciate it, rolling it off of his tongue with sophisticated ease. He wondered how much Lyinar had to practice with his tongue in order to make it do that. His concentration flickered, causing his body to fade back into reality. The trainer said that one day stealthing would be second nature. He would no longer have to focus to achieve that form. Until then, any divergence of conscious thought revealed him to the world, ready or not.

Clearly, he would not be escaping today. With his luck, he wouldn't be able to make it out of the inn without reappearing.

Korel jumped when someone opened the door, dropping his dagger with a clang. A golden eyebrow rose in amused condescension as he hastily snatched it back up, his cheeks flushing pink.

"A clumsy sneak. How original." Korel was also really getting tired of that lilting drawl. He wanted to slap the other elf across the face, or shove his tongue down his throat to get him to shut up or-

"What do you want?" Korel snarled, oppressing that unwanted imagining to the back recesses of his mind where it could curl up and die without ever seeing the light of day.

"You're very temperamental for a rogue. I thought you were all supposed to be suave and debonair," Lyinar reclined his shoulder against the doorjamb and Korel realized that the man was shirtless. He formed a fluid line, his hips tilted in a tantalizing way that made Korel want to run his tongue down the v of his hipbones and-

"What?" If the man had insulted him again, he had been too distracted to notice.

"In summary, your sharp temper is going to get you killed. There's a reason your kind keep their emotions guarded."

"Why should you care?" Korel mumbled under his breath.

Now the other brow rose to join the first one, but Lyinar made no comment if he had heard. He cocked his head to the side, his lips parting with a predatory smirk that barely showed his white teeth. Korel was forcibly reminded of his initial encounter with the elf, his golden hair fiery, looking like both a demon and an angel. He shifted on his feet, wishing there was an inconspicuous way that he could adjust his pants. Unfortunately, Lyinar noticed.

"Would you like that taken care of?" Lyinar motioned to the awkward bulge in Korel's pants, his smirk widening into a full-blown grin. Korel clapped his hands over his crotch, vigorously shaking his head, trying to shout out of a mouth that had suddenly gone too dry to speak. But the other elf advanced, his hips swaying with controlled sensuality.

"Perhaps that's why you've been so tense ," Lyinar's voice was low, almost taunting, but Korel could feel the burning heat permeating from Lyinar's eyes. He was a cord ready to snap, a predator ready to pounce, and all of that intensity was focused on the quivering little elf at the end of the bed who was trying so hard not to moan. Korel could feel his brain function grinding to a halt as every cog was overwhelmed and overheated. Lyinar continued, slowly drawing closer. "While we've been taking our pleasure, you've been stuck in here all alone. But I'm sure you could hear us. Tell me, little elf, did it make you hard?"

Korel was nodding before he even realized that he probably shouldn't, but at this point it didn't matter, because Lyinar was already so close that Korel had to lean back onto his elbows to prevent their faces from colliding. Korel heart stuttered as Lyinar's fingers ghosted over his erection. The hair on his arms stood and his breath shuddered out of his lungs.

The other elf was looking at him curiously now, as if gaging his reaction. Their gazes connected for just an instant, and Korel was shocked at the warmth he saw reflected in the golden-green eyes of the other. Then fingers were pulling at the ties of his pants and his mouth was parting in a quiet groan as a hand was wrapped around his shaft.

The broad calluses of the tip of each of the elf's fingers rasped down Korel's erection as Lyinar stroked him, applying just enough pressure to make Korel wish for more. Trembling, Korel bucked his hips into the other's hand. He felt inebriated by the sheer pleasure and whimpered when Lyinar stopped moving.

"Slowly, little one," the hunter breathed against the shell of his ear, giving it a tantalizing lick. "Let me do what I do best. Lie back."

He shoved gently on Korel's chest. Korel allowed himself to be pushed onto his back, giving the hunter a wary glare. He suddenly felt so vulnerable as he was stretched out on the bed, Lyinar's thighs on either side of his leg and his hand closed so delightfully around his shaft, that he almost twisted away. But then Lyinar's thumb expertly grazed over his head and he keened in the back of his throat, his back bowing off the mattress. Lyinar chuckled above him, but he barely noticed as the elf increased the tempo of his hand.

Korel had never felt pleasure this sublime. It was too intimate, and the other elf was too close- when it was over, surely he would be embarrassed to have had Lyinar witness him in such abandon- yet he could do nothing but writhe in the other's embrace, overcome by the sensation. His breathing became ragged as he approached his climax.

Once again, Lyinar slowed. Korel struggled against him, trying to recreate that incredible friction, but the other elf held him down with ease. "Please," he finally whimpered, feeling tears of frustration building in his eyes.

"Look at me." Lyinar's melodic voice was almost harsh in its need. "Look at me when you beg."

Korel did not want to open his eyes, did not want to acknowledge who was giving him this pleasure, but his eyes slid open of their own accord. Lyinar's face was hovering inches from his own, exquisite in its intense focus. Unconciously, the hunter licked his lips, and the move was so erotic that Korel moaned and arched his body, tilting his chin so that his nose brushed against Lyinar's.

The distance between them closed suddenly. Korel was overwhelmed as a hot mouth covered his own, capturing his lower lip between sharp teeth as Lyinar's hand pumped him roughly. The sensation became too much, and he wailed into the other's mouth as his pleasure erupted from his body, coating Lyinar's fist in hot streams of fluid. Lyinar continued to pump the last quivering spurts from him, his lips moving slower and more gently as the rogue went limp beneath him.

Korel wondered if his heart would burst through his chest. He could feel it thundering within him as Lyinar withdrew his lips. The hunter was tracing lazy circles over Korel's chest with his fingernails. Korel cringed as awareness returned and he realized what he had just done, and _who_ he had just done it with.

"Get off," he tried to wriggle away, but was trapped by the leg draped over his own.

Lyinar smirked and pushed his erection into Korel's hip. "I would like to."

"Get OFF!" White hot rage and desperation surged through his body. He shoved the other elf off the bed. Lyinar's brow crinkled in confusion; he looked almost pitiful crumpled on the floor with his hair mussed over his face. Korel turned from the sight, unable to bear the hurt reflected in Lyinar's eyes.

"Little one, I-"

"GET OUT OF MY ROOM!"

Korel waited, expecting to receive a snide quip or a cutting remark- perhaps even a physical blow- but the door snicked closed in silence. Lyinar was gone.

He slid down the wall, folding up on the floor with his head still in his hands. He had wanted this, hadn't he? He had fantasized about it, even when he told himself he wouldn't. He couldn't understand why he felt so wounded, so alone, when a moment ago he was overwhelmed by closeness and pleasure.

He leaned his head against the smooth stone of the wall. He didn't want to think. He didn't want to feel. Closing his eyes, he filled his chest with cool air, washing away the emotions that were raging within him. He exhaled and imagined them all disappearing into the air around him. When he opened his eyes, his body had vanished. Perhaps the ground had swallowed him up in all his misery after all.


End file.
